A new year–and a new decade–are upon us. In that light, I want to take time to refocus on what is good, pure, true, lovely, and right.
The word “virtue” may seem antiquated and inapplicable to life in our modern culture. But perhaps that’s why we would benefit from rediscovering the true meaning of life-giving character traits, as they have been exemplified in the lives of real people both past and present.
Therefore, in 2020, I will devote one month of blogging to reflections on each of these virtues: patience, courage, gratitude, purity, sincerity, wisdom, generosity, compassion, hope, justice, diligence, and honor. Reflections will center around personal profiles.
I hope you will join me on this journey and find great encouragement in the weekly offerings ahead.
Several days ago, I needed to stop by a local grocery store and pick up a few forgotten items. That particular shopping center has clearly painted crosswalks and stop signs at the spot where most cars drive in from two directions. Thus, I found myself sitting with my brakes firmly applied while a small burst of shoppers entered and exited in front of me.
For whatever reason, two of the pedestrians caught my full attention. The first was an elderly woman who hobbled along, leaning into the stiff breeze, a look of concentration or sadness on her lovely face beneath her snowy hair. A few seconds later, a man, also advanced in years and crowned with white, slipped across the way before I gently eased forward and slid into a parking spot.
I thought about those fellow shoppers as I went in, through, out, and on my way again. I thought of how many Christmases they each have seen…and what types of things they each may have gone through on those Christmases, and even in this very season upon us.
And I wondered if either of them still have any family or friends left, or if either of them will spend this Christmas all alone. True, they are both complete strangers to me. But they are two precious encapsulations of wisdom, experience, and humanity.
That woman I saw may or may not be someone’s wife, mom, grandmother, aunt, or sister. But she is someone’s daughter. And that man I saw may or may not be someone’s husband, father, grandfather, uncle, or brother. But he is certainly someone’s son.
Jesus came into the world as a baby, and as a beloved song says, “The child, the child sleeping in the night: He will bring us goodness and light.” Jesus would not go on to marry or father human children. But He was a son and the Son. A child who would offer to fill hearts with goodness and light.
Therefore, the beauty of Christmas, the day now so often referred to as a holiday for children, is that it is for all of us–this invitation to be filled with His gifts. It doesn’t matter if we have married or not, nor if we have had children or not, nor if we have many or few friends and relatives (left) in our circle. The Savior still comes near to shine in us and on us and through us.
Because good is what He is and light is what He gives.
This week, as you shop for last minute items of your own, travel, or are otherwise out and about, please take the time to notice and show kindness to the people around you…especially those who have seen many Christmases or who appear to be toiling beneath a load of sorrow or loneliness. Be His goodness and His light to those you love and those you have never seen before.
And be blessed in knowing that when you bless another, the heart of that Baby beats in you.
This Sunday’s advent line of blessing is a six-word phrase relatively hidden in the third verse of WhatChildisThis? The more I pondered these six words over the past week, however, the more I considered how they summarize the magnificent combination of grace and truth found in the babe-turned-man born in an obscure town.
Consider…
Beblessed. God invites us to come near, and He asks us to invite Him near as well. He will not force His way into anyone’s heart, though He certainly has the power to do so. He has chosen each of us, and He invites us to choose Him in return. Bless. We can offer that invitation to others, inviting and extending but never forcing or coercing.
Beblessed. The child was born for peasants. For those who have little wealth. For those who are just average, common people. For those who are poor in spirit. For those who are weak and downtrodden. And for those who embrace humility and simplicity. Bless. We who fully except this child and all He stands for will extend His love to all those around us, but especially to the ordinary and the hurting.
Beblessed. He was also born for kings. He is the King of kings, and yet He left the all-powerful halls of Heaven to grow in a womb and place Himself at the mercy of a paranoid monarch. Strange: no struggling peasant family would wish for another mouth to feed, and no prince should ever be born over manure-crusted dirt. Yet, there He was, born for us all…even those of us who are now, by world standards, elite and pampered. Bless. Let us remember that He came for everyone and show His love and kindness to even the “greatest” among us.
Beblessed. Which diety in any religion has every invited the worshippers of that faith to own them? Yet, here we are, being invited toownHim. It implies that we know Him completely and that He knows us completely. It implies that He comes to us and never leaves. It implies that we take a very real and fitting pride in being identified as people who have embraced Him without shame. Bless. He is the only one in the universe who can be owned by so many different hearts without being divided or diminished in any way. In fact, with each heart He enters, His power expressed and manifested in the world only grows for the good of all.
Yes, the good of all. From the greatest to the least and back again.
In my adult years, “Once in Royal David’s City” has become one of my favorite Christmas songs. Ironic, perhaps, since it focuses on how Jesus was a child just like we are/were, and how He can empathize with us so well because He experienced things so common for many of us. Yet, I never remember learning that song in my own childhood.
I have wondered sometimes what types of childhood sadness Jesus personally understood. Did He break an arm or leg? Was He bullied by other children in His village or even by His siblings (perhaps in connection with His parentage)? Did Joseph or Mary yell at Him in exasperation when they were having a bad day? Did He know food insecurity in lean years? Was He troubled by scary dreams?
Jesus would grow up to become a staunch advocate of children, affirming their value and wellbeing, and declaring that anyone who would dare to harm the littlest of people would face horrible future judgement. He drew children close to bless them, and He loved them beautifully.
I have been thinking a lot recently about the power of empathy that springs from shared and similar experiences, or from a deeper motivation to bless another out of an empathetic understanding. “I haven’t been in your shoes,” one might say in such latter cases, “but if I were in your shoes, I would sure be blessed if someone else would do or say this…”
Then, this past week, I heard a story about a deployed soldier who longs to reach out and bless some orphans in his local community, even as he will be missing Christmas with his loved ones back here at home.
(Again the irony, that I should hear about that soldier during the same week when many celebrate the life of St. Nicholas: a boy who was orphaned from a young age. A boy who would grow up to pour out his wealth, love, energy, and time for so many in his region, but especially for the children. Nicholas knew what it was like to be small, helpless, and sad. He wanted to minister to children and protect them at times when they felt the same way.)
All these combined ponderings led me to write a poem in honor of that soldier and the spirit of the Advent season. I will share it here, and I pray it will bless you.
For the Children
Monktar and Mariam sit near the eastward gate,
Drawing bright stars in the dirt with some sticks.
Brother and sister, they walked from two towns away
After their mother had starved to feed them.
Now the home workers scrape up every bit they can,
Making it stretch so that every kid’s fed…
There is so little to cook in the pot tonight.
Stars dim as these two go, hungry, to bed.
~
At least they will sleep in a safer place now,
And dream of eating.
Perhaps tomorrow.
~
The orphanage sits near a camp full of soldiers.
One of them wakes a bit early, next day.
Uniform straightened, he picks up a box of food,
Carries it quietly through that east gate.
Rising sun graces broad shoulders which bear his gift:
Dense with nutrition and hope for less fear.
Same sun lights a worker’s face as she receives it
And thanks him again for blessing them here.
~
So far from home, with so little of his own,
He smiles and wishes her
A merry Christmas.
~
Christmas has never been just about happiness,
Lavish festivities, spending too much.
Christmas has always been carried on angels’ wings:
Spirit of selflessness embraced by love.
So it goes and it grows: this gift for all the year,
This light of sacrifice piercing the night.
Outside of duty, we hunger and thirst for peace.
Bellies full, now we sit, craving the light.
~
On this day and every day, may the heart of a baby
My word art is back for the advent Sundays in December, highlighting a line of four different Christmas hymns before I share a blogging plan for the new year.
This week, I draw out a simple invitation. One extended to us from the Christ child and all of Heaven with Him.
He would grow to understand all aspects of the human condition, including weariness, and so He can empathize with us when all we want is to lie down, curl up, shut off.
Some would say His greatest gift is sacrifice, forgiveness, or grace. But I have sometimes felt that the gift of His rest is equal to all of those.
What is one of the sweetest ways to be blessed in the busy holiday weeks ahead? Receive His gift of rest each day.
What is one of the sweetest ways to bless others during the busy holiday weeks ahead? Practice patience and promote a slower pace, encouraging others to rest and supporting them when they choose to do so.
A small suggestion? Yes.
A simple task? Not in our culture.
But worth the effort of letting go?
I think so.
How else will we really have hearts quiet enough to hear the angels sing?
One year ago this week, I became an “angel.” (I joined a group that encourages service members who are stationed around the world.) And it just so happens that my first anniversary of angeling lands on Thanksgiving Day itself.
I am indeed thankful, for I can see that lifting the hearts of those brave men and women (and their families too, by extension) has become one of the most rewarding and beautiful parts of my life.
We angels often say that we are blessed a dozen times over (or more) for every letter, card, package, or email we send to our troops. To me, it is a practical picture of the New Testament teaching on generosity: that when we give, it will come back to us–and not just in an equal measure but as an overflowing flood of blessing.
That has been true…even yesterday. Somehow, one of my adoptees had gotten his hands on a Thanksgiving card and he sent it my way, hoping it would reach me in time. When I opened it, my heart filled up and overflowed with happiness when reading the kind words he’d written.
With the most meaningful service, we do not serve and give only because of the blessings we feel and receive in return. But such return blessings do help us feel motivated to keep serving and giving out of far more than just a sense of duty and obligation.
This Thursday, I will pause to be thankful for and pray for my adoptees who are far from their loved ones, in places where they cannot enjoy even that simple pleasure of gazing at marvelously brilliant autumn foliage.
And as I pause to focus very deeply on all the ways I have been blessed, I will ask God to keep showing me where to pour out the renewed blessings in my heart, to shine light in the hard spots and the dark and shadowy places of the world.
NOTE: For more information about how to become an angel of encouragement to deployed troops or how to receive free encouragement as a deployed troop or for a deployed loved one, please visit: www.soldiersangels.org
In this month, one hundred and ninety-nine years ago, a large ship was rammed and sunk by a male sperm whale in the farthest reaches of the Pacific. The following summer, several of the men from that ship’s crew, who had miraculously survived the ordeal afterward, made it home.
Safe and sound.
I have the honor and privilege of supporting members of our armed forces while they are deployed. It is completely voluntary on my part…and one of the best parts of my life. This past week, I heard from one of the soldiers I had encouraged via letters for months. He sent me an email to let me know he was finally home.
Safe and sound.
What does it mean to return to our loved ones safe and sound? When I meditate on that, I think of safe as physical wellness and sound as soundness of mind.
But while many have appeared to be of sound mind after surviving chronically or acutely stressful and even traumatic circumstances, that soundness does not always continue.
At least one of those surviving sailors struggled with symptoms of what we now call PTSD and paranoia the rest of his life, even more in his old age when he was eventually declared to be insane. And while some service members really do maintain strong mental health, some of them bear more pain and psychological imbalance than they can truly handle alone as life marches on.
In truth, soundness of mind is one of the greatest blessings any person can be given.
And if something happens to disrupt that soundness, unwavering support and compassion from others is perhaps an even greater blessing bestowed.
Has God blessed you with sound mental health? Or brought you some healing of mind? If so, be thankful and cherish it every day.
Do you care about someone who is struggling with or in danger of developing mental health concerns? Pray for strength to love them and to bless them with your support. And be blessed in knowing your support of them is a heaven-sent gift.
Most of all, thanks be to the God who desires for us to be safe and sound. But who blesses us because He loves us always, especially when we draw near to Him. In any state of mind.
Over the past few days, I have had one person each day (most of whom I had never met in person before) look me in the eye and say, “Bless you, child.”
(This is not a common experience for me.)
My reply each time, after a moment of surprise, was, “I thank you and receive the blessing.”
Though I look younger than my age, I am no longer mistaken by anyone as a child. But when I received each of those blessings, I was not offended by the wording. Whether I am 40 or 60 or 80 years old, may I always be a child of God, and never too old to notice and receive His blessings!
Noticing the blessings is a lot easier when we hear the words said directly to us. Yet, even if such words are not said directly to us, blessings are spoken all around us every day, if one’s heart will have ears to hear.
So see the genuine smile on a neighbor’s face reflecting goodness…
And feel the wind slip over your skin, reminding you of the gift of life in your lungs…
And hear the sound of a child squealing with laughter where she sits nearby…
And look up to view sunlight in a hundred finely-graded hues, whipped across the sky in glory…
In all these things and more, hear the words in your heart: “Bless you, child.”
Looking back on themes covered in the first eight months of this year and looking ahead to 2019’s remaining weeks, I want to usher in this final, dual focus of receiving blessings to be a blessing with a new poem. I hope it will encourage you today.
In this final post about shining, I want to share a brief thought and a short, related poem.
The thought:
True shining is born when we are what we are created to be and we do what we are created to do. When those two factors dwell together in a person’s life, genuineness and warm peace are sure to result.
